Title: When Angels Reply
Author: Genise A. Mora [rockenpnay]
Rating: PG
Summary: What happens when Luke, Doggett's son, returns to help his dear ol' dad move on with his life? Warning for all you MSRs, this is a DSR fic. Please R&R
Disclaimer: Scully, Reyes, Doggett, Luke, and William and the X-Files are property of Chris Carter and all of his related entities. I am just an admirer of the show, don't sue me.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to the lovely Jude Law. If you read the descriptions of Luke carefully, you'll see I modeled him after the actor.
Feedback: Certainly. rockenpnay@yahoo.com
When Angels Reply – [By Genise A. Mora]
= = = = =
It had been a long time since he had last been back here, to a place that had only existed as a thin cobweb that fluttered in the back of his mind. But now he was back.
He was in his old childhood home, in Georgia, but back when the house was still in good condition, before it had become dilapidated and broken down from lack of care. Everything was as it had been when he was still a young child; His father's office was kept immaculate and spotless; the living room was vibrant with the light that streamed in through the windows.
He wandered throughout the house, touching his hand lightly to the things he'd almost forgotten had existed. A small smile touched the corners of his lips. How funny it was, to think that he'd forgotten the smallest details, when they were always in his mind. He started up the stairs to the second floor, smiling again at the familiarity of the second step creaking as he placed his foot on it.
The upstairs of the house was smaller than that of the bottom. Why make useless space? His father had always reasoned. There had only been three of them, John, his mother, and his father. He wandered through the upstairs, peeking into his parents' bedroom. It was void of people, as he had expected. He wandered toward his own childhood bedroom. The rocking chair that his mother had rocked him in when he had been born sat in the corner, his bed pushed against the opposite wall. But those were things that John had failed to notice. He could only stare at the young man who was standing in the middle of the room, staring out of the window. His back was to John, but John could tell he was a tall man, taller than himself.
The man turned around, and John's mouth opened in surprise.
"Hello, Dad."
= = = = =
John woke up with a start, his eyes shutting themselves promptly again because of the brightness of the morning light that streamed in through the blinds of his bedroom. He sat up, rubbing his face. His hand ran over the stubble that had grown over his face, but he was relieved. It had only been a dream. He sighed, staring down at the floor. Only a dream. Whenever he had the dream, always, it always ended the same way. The dawning look of recognition, followed by two words, and then he would wake up.
It didn't make sense, he thought to himself as he got ready for work. Why would he think of Luke as a young man, when Luke would only be around fourteen? He thought this over as he poured himself a cup of coffee and waited for his pop tart to finish heating up. The dreams had become more frequent in the past couple of weeks, but he had associated that with the lack of sleep he had been receiving. With Mulder's disappearance, reappearance, followed by the whole works again, he'd felt immensely stressed out.
His pop tart popped into sight with a small ding. John grabbed it and headed out to his suburban. He was already late.
When he arrived at the Bureau, Monica sat at her desk, shaking her head at him teasingly.
"Late again, John?" She glanced at her watch. "Twenty minutes this time. It's so uncharacteristic of you."
"Sorry." He took a seat at his own desk, removing his coat first. "What's going on?" He asked, opening the file that sat on the desk.
"Well, we're supposed to start finishing up the paperwork for the last case we did," Monica answered with a bored look, "we'd better get started on that."
"How's Scully doing?" John asked, trying not to seem too interested. He always had concern for how she and her baby were making it, mainly because he had never viewed Mulder as the family-man type. Monica had always been the one he would ask for information, since she and Scully had become close friends during the past year. It had always been difficult for John to approach Dana on anything personal, but it had become even more difficult when Dana had decided to return to medicine.
Monica's expression changed as she leaned forward, twiddling her pen between her fingers. "Mulder's gone."
"What? Again?" He asked, his voice conveying all of the disbelief he felt.
"Well, this time it's not because he was forced to. He wanted to. They found some alien spacecraft in Africa, so he went to go check it out."
"Sonofa-" John started, about to slam his fist down on the desk, but managing to refrain himself from doing so. Allowing his face to become void of emotion, he began to get down to work on the files.
= = = = =
Author: Genise A. Mora [rockenpnay]
Rating: PG
Summary: What happens when Luke, Doggett's son, returns to help his dear ol' dad move on with his life? Warning for all you MSRs, this is a DSR fic. Please R&R
Disclaimer: Scully, Reyes, Doggett, Luke, and William and the X-Files are property of Chris Carter and all of his related entities. I am just an admirer of the show, don't sue me.
Dedication: This story is dedicated to the lovely Jude Law. If you read the descriptions of Luke carefully, you'll see I modeled him after the actor.
Feedback: Certainly. rockenpnay@yahoo.com
When Angels Reply – [By Genise A. Mora]
= = = = =
It had been a long time since he had last been back here, to a place that had only existed as a thin cobweb that fluttered in the back of his mind. But now he was back.
He was in his old childhood home, in Georgia, but back when the house was still in good condition, before it had become dilapidated and broken down from lack of care. Everything was as it had been when he was still a young child; His father's office was kept immaculate and spotless; the living room was vibrant with the light that streamed in through the windows.
He wandered throughout the house, touching his hand lightly to the things he'd almost forgotten had existed. A small smile touched the corners of his lips. How funny it was, to think that he'd forgotten the smallest details, when they were always in his mind. He started up the stairs to the second floor, smiling again at the familiarity of the second step creaking as he placed his foot on it.
The upstairs of the house was smaller than that of the bottom. Why make useless space? His father had always reasoned. There had only been three of them, John, his mother, and his father. He wandered through the upstairs, peeking into his parents' bedroom. It was void of people, as he had expected. He wandered toward his own childhood bedroom. The rocking chair that his mother had rocked him in when he had been born sat in the corner, his bed pushed against the opposite wall. But those were things that John had failed to notice. He could only stare at the young man who was standing in the middle of the room, staring out of the window. His back was to John, but John could tell he was a tall man, taller than himself.
The man turned around, and John's mouth opened in surprise.
"Hello, Dad."
= = = = =
John woke up with a start, his eyes shutting themselves promptly again because of the brightness of the morning light that streamed in through the blinds of his bedroom. He sat up, rubbing his face. His hand ran over the stubble that had grown over his face, but he was relieved. It had only been a dream. He sighed, staring down at the floor. Only a dream. Whenever he had the dream, always, it always ended the same way. The dawning look of recognition, followed by two words, and then he would wake up.
It didn't make sense, he thought to himself as he got ready for work. Why would he think of Luke as a young man, when Luke would only be around fourteen? He thought this over as he poured himself a cup of coffee and waited for his pop tart to finish heating up. The dreams had become more frequent in the past couple of weeks, but he had associated that with the lack of sleep he had been receiving. With Mulder's disappearance, reappearance, followed by the whole works again, he'd felt immensely stressed out.
His pop tart popped into sight with a small ding. John grabbed it and headed out to his suburban. He was already late.
When he arrived at the Bureau, Monica sat at her desk, shaking her head at him teasingly.
"Late again, John?" She glanced at her watch. "Twenty minutes this time. It's so uncharacteristic of you."
"Sorry." He took a seat at his own desk, removing his coat first. "What's going on?" He asked, opening the file that sat on the desk.
"Well, we're supposed to start finishing up the paperwork for the last case we did," Monica answered with a bored look, "we'd better get started on that."
"How's Scully doing?" John asked, trying not to seem too interested. He always had concern for how she and her baby were making it, mainly because he had never viewed Mulder as the family-man type. Monica had always been the one he would ask for information, since she and Scully had become close friends during the past year. It had always been difficult for John to approach Dana on anything personal, but it had become even more difficult when Dana had decided to return to medicine.
Monica's expression changed as she leaned forward, twiddling her pen between her fingers. "Mulder's gone."
"What? Again?" He asked, his voice conveying all of the disbelief he felt.
"Well, this time it's not because he was forced to. He wanted to. They found some alien spacecraft in Africa, so he went to go check it out."
"Sonofa-" John started, about to slam his fist down on the desk, but managing to refrain himself from doing so. Allowing his face to become void of emotion, he began to get down to work on the files.
= = = = =